


A Suit for a Friend

by CollingwoodGirl



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Braces, Crossdressing, F/M, Flashfic challenge, Implied Smut, flashfic, irresistable prompts, phryne in braces
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 11:26:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14831400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CollingwoodGirl/pseuds/CollingwoodGirl
Summary: The shoe is on the other foot. A one-hour flashfic for the prompt: buttons, braces, and shirtsleeves.





	A Suit for a Friend

“This is patently ridiculous,” Jack grouses, tossing the garment bag onto the bed.

Phryne, barefaced and clad in his overlarge dressing gown, descends on the parcel like a starved woman on bread. “Oh,” she sighs, and carefully removes the double-breasted suit from the hangers. “It’s perfect. Was it much trouble? I did write down my measurements for you.”

“Part of the problem,” he confesses with a sardonic rise of his brow. “I’ve purchased my own clothing since I was fifteen but you’d never know it from the way I was blithering on, sweating like a pig iron. And the shop girl gave me the side eye the entire time. I thought she was going to throw me out and call the police.”

“Poor Jack.” She stands on tiptoes and plants a kiss on his brow. “Whatever got into you?”

His hands tighten about her waist as he pulls her closer. “The thought of you in those clothes got into me,” he whispers, gratified when her entire body shudders against him.

But there is work to do and so he releases her with a smile that promises of things to come. “Tell me again why Doctor MacMillan couldn’t assist you with this little charade?”

“Because it would ruin the element of surprise,” she says with no small amount of exasperation. She drops the robe and reveals her handiwork thus far: neat black socks held up with garters; a pair of trunk drawers, and some sort of silken bandage wrapped around her chest to flatten out her figure. “I need her reaction to be genuine or there will be no chance of getting a confession from that weasel in sheep’s clothing, Elmira Smythe!”

“And what about Mrs. Collins?” he teases, passing her a frox before smoothing shirtsleeves of crisp, white broadcloth over her outstretched arms.

“Dot surely might have helped, darling,” she preens, batting her lashes at him, knowing he finds them just as bewitching without their usual khol. “But it wouldn’t be as much fun.”

She reaches for the suit trousers and practically leaps into them, both legs at once. “Did you manage the—”

“Braces?” he asks, a pair dangling off his fingertips. “Tuck in, first.”

“Funny, I’m used to doing this in reverse order.” Her smirk is categorically filthy as she works her shirt into trousers and clasps them up. Her fingers, used to buttoning up the other side of a shirt placket, however, fumble.

“Allow me.” Jack’s voice is genuine and gruff all at once, and it makes her insides hum with anticipation. He reaches beneath her arms from behind, as if he’s doing up his own shirt, and manages the buttons skillfully until the last one is secure.

A gasp! — as Jack’s fingers fish inside the waistband of her trousers, searching and finding the hidden fasteners for the braces — and she’s soaking. He nuzzles into her hair before spinning her around to apply the same treatment to the front.

Braces. Tie. Jacket. Phryne had thought being _undressed_ by Jack was an unparalleled experience, his devotion to detail unmatched. By the time he is done, she feels positively adorned and she hasn’t a single jewel to show for it.

He kneels before her and laces up the black patent oxfords.

“You look astonishing,” he whispers, throat tight.

“Almost done,” she smiles, removing her foot from his thigh to gather the pomade and comb from his bureau. “Would you do the honours?”

“Sod Elmira Smythe,” he growls, throwing her onto the bed. “I’ll arrest her tomorrow.”

 


End file.
